Kit Bag Troubles
by AliceRipper1888
Summary: It is the year 1934 and the whole world is feeling the weight of the Great Depression. Arthur Kirkland receives a letter from the President of the United asking him to come on "urgent" business. He is soon unexpectedly sent on a wild goose chase and ends up with his friend Alfred Jones in the heart of Cincinnati, Ohio where all sorts of misadventures await.
1. Chapter 1: A Letter from Washington

APH US UK, family, adventure, some hurt/comfort, Great Depression, American Girl

Enjoy

**Chapter 1: A letter from Washington**

England got off the train at Washington's main station and looked around. People coming and going, the warm summer sun beaming down on the city streets, as new ford model T's gurgled down the roads. Not much seemed different here, but the letters he received made it all sound so urgent. He situated his hat on his head and lifted his suitcase and umbrella to his hip then took a step out into the muggy summer air.

He winced from the glair of the sun and took a deep breath of hot summer air. America had always been a "hot blooded" young man, but this was ridiculous, he thought to himself. As he walked the streets, which led towards the white house, he passes several homes and apartments with foreclosure signs, and many shops going out of business. He passed by one shop, which sold suits and read the foreclosure notice. "Shame." He said softly and kept walking kicking old newspapers out of his way. "Really Alfred. This is starting to be a bit much. You should clean up more." He mumbled to himself, not that he could talk, his cities were just as dirty.

He kicked one paper out of his way, but the persistent thing remained stuck to his shoe. He growled and kicked harder causing it to catch a breeze and flutter up into his line of sight. "End of it all?" read the headline in big bold letters before it blew off into the road. Arthur sighed as he rounded the corner; he knew this route well, even if it was not the usual one taken… He had help build these roads after all, and had even destroyed a few.

He had been summoned here by America's boss, President Roosevelt, on urgent business. The explanation seemed simple enough though. Everyone around Europe had heard of America's "predicament" but it would pass. These kinds of things always did; he himself had seen his economy fall to near nothing horrible hardships as well, and he had always come through. He really didn't see what the big deal was. He and the rest of the world were suffering from this "sickness" as well. All were feeling the "depression's" nasty grip on their morals and their people. But it was how President Roosevelt had worded the letter that intrigued him.

"_Dear Mr. Kirkland… It is urgent that you come, I need to speak with you, and only you can help. Your presence would be most appreciated…_"

Mr. Roosevelt as a kind, humble gentleman, and one Arthur had approved of greatly to rule over America. Any man who could treat Alfred like a son was deserving of being a saint… Himself not necessarily included. So he decided to come… But there was something more, something behind the letter he could not put his finger on. "I really don't see why I'm needed." He said aloud to himself. "We all have bouts of depression, its only natural, the spoiled boy will get over it in no…" he suddenly stopped when his path was blocked by a huge line of people.

He stood dumbfounded; the line looked a mile long, disappearing down the next block. People of all shapes, sizes, classes, and ages stood waiting, all with a hint of forlorn on their faces. He twisted his eyebrows into a look of utter perplexion then turned to the building where they were entering… "Red cross Soup kitchen." It read. Arthur sighed then looked back at the massive line….

All of these people had nothing to eat. That was a hard thing to fathom knowing what a chowhound America was. The sight did make him swallow his words a bit, and he lowered his eyes as he walked past. After so many hundred years, he had to learn to become numb to some things… He could not save and protect all of his people like he would like to; same for every country. He had been taught, just like all the others, to not become too attached, and to separate himself from people, other wise… Well, things could become very painful; his hand absent-mindedly fidgeting with a nonexistent ring on his middle finger.

Soon he found himself at the tall, iron, White House gates. "Can I help you sir?" a guard asked glairing at him from under his little blue hat. Arthur said nothing but pulled out his wallet and handed the man an identification card.

The guard took it curiously and read it over. Arthur waited for the reaction… He secretly loved this game. Sure enough the young guard's eyebrows lifted when he read the word and the seal that proved everything he needed to know. He looked back to Arthur. "I have an audience with your president… Or my associate Alfred Jones if you please." He said politely taking his precious card back tucking it in his wallet, which he placed back in the inner pocket of his waistcoat.

The guard nodded and pressed a button opening the gates. "Yes sir, Mr. Eng… Kirkland? Yes, go right ahead the other guards will direct you." Arthur smiled trying not to chuckle. He tipped his hat, "Thank you lad." And he walked right through without trouble. Ah the perks of being a country.

He was quickly escorted down the main hall up to the president's cabinet. "The president has been expecting you sir." An agent said as Arthur took off his hat and looked around the portraits of past presidents as they passed down the red-carpeted hallway. "So I have been told." Arthur replied. "Tell me what is this great urgency that I was needed and not my boss?" Normally countries spoke to countries, and their leaders to other leaders. Communication between one county's "boss" to another country was almost unheard of. Which is the main reason why Arthur found this summons so intriguing. The letter had been sent to him, not his king, by America's boss… Not the young country.

"I'm afraid I cannot say sir." The agent said as he paused in front of the cabinet door. He then looked at Arthur his eyebrows lifting, "I'm just thankful you came sir." He said almost desperately. Before Arthur could really take time to study this, he was ushered into the room. The president and several members of his cabinet looked up when the white doors opened. "Forgive the intrusion Mr. President. Sir Kirkland is here." The agent said as Arthur stepped into the room with a polite bow holding his hat behind his back. His suitcase and umbrella were waiting for him back in the main office.

President Roosevelt looked to all the men in the room with him and waved his hands dismissively. "Thank you gentlemen we will convene later, but right now I have some important business with Mr. Kirkland. If you please." He said. The men packed up their leather satchels and papers, and filed out of the room except for maybe five who were part of the Senate… There was no sign of Alfred. Odd, but not uncommon. Countries often lived normal lives like everyone else and only stayed in their capital buildings when needed. But still, surly Alfred was aware of his coming… Typical America, he thought rolling his eyes.

Mr. Roosevelt scooted back in his chair and grabbed his crutches to stand. "Oh please sir don't get…" Arthur began knowing the president's physical disability, but Mr. Roosevelt ignored him and stood with a smile extending a hand to shake. "You are worth the standing Mr. Kirkland. You and your king are our closest friends." The president smiled warmly. Arthur could not help but smile as he grasped the hand into a friendly shake. "As are you ours sir." Arthur said taking a step back glancing back to the president's wheelchair as if asking him to sit.

President Roosevelt complied and sat at his desk resituating papers. He looked very tired, the circles under the man's eyes were evidence enough of his struggle and worry over this "Depression" which had gripped the whole western world. Arthur had seen his own king stay up several nights trying to get a handle on it, while Arthur himself stayed up with an aching stomach or head, due to its effects.

The president fixed his glasses then gestured to a chair for Arthur to sit in. Again it was very rare for an audience like this to be held. The countries always stood behind or at the side of their leaders, and never sat unless the situation called for it, which was hardly ever. Like guards, or loyal dogs they were. However amongst each other they were very much like normal people conducting business, and more often than not leaders spoke and kept in the company of leaders, countries spoke and kept in the company of other countries.

Arthur looked to the chair and the president's valet pushed it gently under him as he sat down. He looked to it slightly uncomfortably, he being one for formality, he would much prefer to stand in the president's presence, but he also knew better than to argue, or refuse a kind gesture.

"Would you like a drink?" Mr. Roosevelt asked politely looking back over his own shoulder for the water, which his valet moved to get. "Yes please. Thank you Mr. President." Arthur said politely. Even though he really wasn't all that thirsty, the laws of cordiality stated that he should never refuse an offer when it was first given. Mr. Roosevelt handed him a glass of water, the poured himself one. The President was very kind to Arthur, always had been, and had been more apt to treat him more like a person than a country. This made Arthur slightly uncomfortable, but he knew it was by good intention so he shrugged it off as much as he could. Usually the leaders drank first then the countries. All of these rules were passed down when rulers of ancient times considered themselves supreme laws or rulers of their countries, and during a time where servant mandate was required. So naturally the countries had to appear strong, powerful and regal next to their leaders, but at the same time submissive, and obedient to any command they were given… It was a long complicated story, and one he had stopped trying to fully comprehend. Though the times had changed, most of these formalities had not, and were acted upon now for more the sake of tradition than anything else. He held the glass in his hand and waited for the president to take a sip before he took a swig of water himself.

But the president's lax behavior did give him an advantage in conversation, so he was able to speak more freely. "Forgive me for being so direct sir. But may I inquire as to why it is that you called me here, with out my king as well? Surly he would be able to help you better than I."

The president shook his head, "No Mr. Kirkland, only you can help I'm afraid." He said seriously. "I explained every thing to King George, and he agreed to let you come help us."

Odd, George had told Arthur nothing about all this. "I asked him not to tell you. Forgive me." Roosevelt said as if sensing Arthur's thoughts. "Yes but why? Why did you call for me sir, Mr. President?" Arthur begged immediately correcting himself. One of the members of the Senate looked to Roosevelt. "You didn't tell him?" he asked almost bewildered. "I felt it more appropriate to ask him in person and George agreed." The president argued looking to his associated folding his hands. "What? Tell me what gentlemen?" Arthur begged becoming a bit agitated and inpatient. This was becoming stranger by the moment, he maybe a country and a mass of land, but he still had ears! What on earth was all this about that even George didn't tell him? And where the bloody hell was Alfred?! If anyone would "spill the beans" to coin the phrase, it would be that loud mouth! Arthur found himself instinctually looking around the room for his younger familiar, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute being the only country there. Roosevelt seemed again, to sense this and cleared his throat. "Forgive the secrecy Mr. Kirkland, but George also agreed that it better I ask you in person. If this information were to get out, then things could be quite dangerous." He said. Arthur nodded regaining his composure straightening his back. "Understood sir."

Roosevelt sighed and rubbed his forehead then spoke, "As I'm sure you've realized we are in a horrible depression."

"Yes sir I am." Arthur said, doing his best to hold his tongue about the rest of Europe feeling it as well. "Well, we cannot ask for help, seeing as how all the rest of the world has fallen under it… But we have been hit hard, and it has left us crippled and me, very concerned." The president went on to say with an exhausted sigh. Arthur smiled warmly, "It will be alright sir, these things happen. They come and go, we all have depressions even you humans have them. We countries are no different. I'm sure Alfred will snap out of it if I speak to him…" he said now assuming that was why he had been called… This however was not so…

The president lowered his eyes. "That is the problem Mr. Kirkland… We don't know where he is." He said somberly. Arthur froze and his heart dropped to his toes. "What?" was all he could muster. Roosevelt sighed and shook head, worry now clearly plastered all over his face. "We found this not long after he went missing. He had been staying here under my direction, then one morning he was no where to be found, and all that was left was this note." He handed Arthur the paper and the older country pulled it close to his face and read it:

Dear Boss,

I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I can't just sit around an office all day and do nothing! I have to get out there and try to fix things! People are suffering more than me, and I have to try and make things right. I'm sorry, please don't be sore at me. I promise I'll write. Try to understand…People need me; I have to help them as much as I can… I have to fix things. I'll come back soon I promise.

Your loyal country,

Alfred Jones… AMERICA

Idiot! Arthur's fingers gripped the paper in frustration and concern. What was he thinking?! What was he ever thinking? Trying to be a hero again?! Why didn't the boy ever just do as he was told!

By the look on the president's face he was just as worried as Arthur. "How long has been gone?" Arthur asked not taking his eyes from the paper. "About two months." The president answered shamefully. Arthur's eyes shot up to him. "We have been trying to track him down, but every time we got close he disappeared again. He truly doesn't want to be found." Roosevelt explained. "He's impossible to catch."

"No one knows his terrain better I'm afraid. You know that expression about knowing the back of your hand?" Arthur said holding up his own hand swiveling it around, trying to hide the concern in his voice. Roosevelt mustered a smile at this. "Yes, yes I do. Which is why I need you're help Arthur. No one knows Alfred better than you," he then raised his eyes to the country, locking his grey eyes to bright endless green ones. Arthur sat at attention unwavering, his eyes steady and firm. Yet again felt humbled when his gaze met that of a leader. "You did raise him after all." Roosevelt pointed out. "Mr. President," one of the Senate began, but Arthur quickly diverted his gaze, trying not to blush. "Yes I did. F-For a while." The British nation answered quietly as memories began to flood his mind like a rising tide. "Then please Mr. Kirkland, you must help us find him. With the way the economy is dropping I fear for his safety and well being… If he gets hurt or sicker, then it could be devastating,"

"Wait," Arthur interrupted. "I'm sorry, did you say… Sicker?" he asked. Roosevelt nodded, but one the Senate answered for him. "Mr. Jones, was quite… Um, ill, we shall say, before he went on his "crusade"." the Senator said putting quotes around the word crusade. Arthur tried not to glair. "Understandable, when our economies drop and our people suffer, we do become ill." Arthur said stifling the need to cough himself from the cold he had had earlier. "Yes, but according to his doctor, we wasn't improving, and by the way things are going, it's only getting worse." Another Senator finished. Roosevelt handed Arthur a newspaper, "Read the headlines and market numbers." He insisted. Arthur did as he was told and pulled out a small pair of reading glasses from his coat pocket and put them on to read the fine print.

The numbers were horribly low… Employment near zero, stock market numbers irreplaceable, every thing was out of whack. The dust bowl was in full swing as well, and only getting worse. There was even a small mention of how Canada, America's twin, was being affected by all of this. This was all very disturbing; Arthur had no idea of how devastatingly unbalanced, and wounded these statistics were. If they were all true, then America was indeed in dire trouble. Especially if he were out there all alone, and without contact! If he were to get sicker, or injure himself… He very well could kill himself…

"When did you hear from him last?" Arthur asked calmly returning his glasses to his pocket and the paper back to the desk. "Last week." Roosevelt said and handed Arthur another letter. "We got this letter which suggests he was some where around Illinois and Kentucky at least a week ago."

"He had been out west before that, trying to fix the dust bowl we can only assume." Another Senator added in as Arthur examined the postage from the letter he had been given. "Where do you think he will head next?" Arthur continued to ask as if he were questioning for a case. "We…We don't know sir." Another Senator said hanging his head shamefully. "We were hoping you could help us."

Arthur looked up at them and Roosevelt again sighed sadly and his weary eyes pleaded with Arthur. "There's no one out there better when it comes to secret services. I will not lie to you Mr. Kirkland, we a hanging by a thread here, and I am doing all I can to keep it from ripping. My options are exhausting quickly, and I am needed here, otherwise," the President looked away for a moment and squeezed his fingers into his palm. "I'd be out there looking for him myself…" he then turned back, "But it would do us all no good if I did. Please, I need Alfred back here, or if anything out of harm's way." His face then softened and Arthur could swear he saw the reflections of tears behind the president's eyes. "I think of Alfred as if he were one of my own, just as I do all the people I dictate… Please Arthur, I'm sure you know how that feels. The worry of a parent."

Arthur dropped his gaze a moment. "Aye sir. That I do." He said seriously. "So I ask you please," Roosevelt nearly begged. "Please help us. Find him. Find him and bring him back safely… For all our sakes. Only you know Alfred well enough to find him and convince him to come back."

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't convince Alfred of anything he doesn't want to do sir." Arthur blushed and chuckled. "He can be quite stubborn."

"Yes but he will listen to you." The president went on. Arthur sighed in his head. Alfred never listened to him, why would he bother now when he was defying his own boss?

"Please England," he looked back up at the sound of his formal name. "Will you help us?" there was a moment of silence in the room as all waited. Arthur closed his eyes and smiled slowly rising to his feet. "Of course I will." He said standing to his full height opening his endless emerald green eyes. "I'll bring the boy back home safe and sound Mr. President. I promise." He said in earnest.

President Roosevelt sighed happily smiling with utter gratitude and relief, sinking into his desk, his broad shoulders relaxing. He extended a hand to the country, which Arthur took into a welcoming shake. "I'm forever indebted to you Mr. Kirkland." Roosevelt sighed his voice quivering with overwhelming relief. Arthur smiled kindly, "Please sir call me Arthur." He permitted. "And no dept is necessary, I do, after all like you said… Know the worry of a parent, and that a country." He smiled releasing his hand and took a step back. "I'll bring him back safely. You have my word."

Roosevelt nodded smiling. "A plane will be ready to fly you to the last known location, after that though, I'm afraid I cannot offer you anything more." The president said. Arthur smiled as he was escorted to the door. "Don't worry Mr. President, I can manage just fine. We countries always have a ways of finding one another. After all, who better to send on a wild goose chase than a goose eh?" He grinned. The president chuckled, "God speed Arthur, take care and good luck."

"And to you sir." Arthur bowed politely before he left the room to begin his search. Oh America what had you gotten yourself into this time…


	2. Chapter 2: Ticket to Somewhere

**Chapter 2: A Ticket to Somewhere**

"We'll be landing shortly sir." The polite said. Thank God! This plane ride had been one of the bumpiest Arthur had experienced in the longest time, and he traveled internationally constantly!

During the miserably flight he had taken the time to study the notes and evidence he had been given through Alfred's two months worth of letters. Like they had said, the last they had heard he was some where in Illinois near the Kentucky border. Arthur's first stop was one, "Chuck's gas station and burgers" where Alfred had purchased the postcard… At least he had not lost his appetite.

The plane landed and Arthur shouldered his duffel bag, which he had traded for his suitcase back at the Whitehouse. This would make carrying his things much more manageable. He set his derby hat on his head and got off onto the tarmac. "Are you sure you will be alright sir?" the pilot asked, "Should I call some one?"

Arthur merely grinned squinting his eyes to look at him over the horrible glair. "Nonsense lad. I thoroughly enjoy a good hunt. Where would the fun be if I didn't have to work my way through things?" He then tipped his hat, "Thank you for your services good luck to you lad."

"And to you sir." The young pilot saluted as Arthur walked out of sight. Arthur caught a cab to the meager gas station not far from the small airport where he had been dropped off near the border of Kentucky. He paid the driver with the small amount of money the President had been able to offer him, then turned to the small rusty gas station and diner… Yep, this was the place all right! Certainly smelled like it at least. Arthur sighed shaking his head as he pushed the door open and stepped into the air conditioned tin building; only America would find the scent of motor oil and a deep fat fryer appealing. He stepped in, removing his hat automatically and looked around. There was a small dinner attached to the gas station where a small hand full of people sat at booths having a snack. He could hear the sound of the fryer in the background, the barking of orders, and the gentle thrum of the wobbly ceiling fans above his head. There was also the soft drowned melody of jazzy songs that encompassed the whole building like a soft summer breeze. He stood next to several aisle ways of assorted snacks and other odd ecliptic assortments of needs. Everything from bleach to flash lights to sunflower seeds to the icebox in the far back corner filled of beer and sodas.

Just to the right of him was a small rack of post cards, which he immediately inspected. He found Alfred's card's match and looked at it. It had a black and white photograph of the gas station and a view of the highway beyond. "They're 2 cents a pop doc. 6 cents if you want us to mail'em." A voice called to him. Arthur looked up to his addresser; a man in a dingy shirt who stood behind the cash register of the gas station. Arthur smiled politely and put the card back in its display, and pocketed Alfred's card. "I don't intend to buy one, but I was actually hoping you could help me sir." He said walking up to the counter. "I'm looking for someone."

The man cocked an eyebrow at Arthur fiddling with the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "You and everyone else in the world stranger." He smiled. "I can't offer ya much but I'll do what I can. Now, what's her name and how'd she break your heart?" the man asked with a toothy sarcastic grin leaning lazily on the counter. Arthur sighed contemptuously and calmly pulled a photograph from his waist coat pocket. "I'm not looking for anyone of that sort, I'm looking for my," he paused to try and find an appropriate word. "Brother." He said quickly and handed the man a small Polaroid of Alfred he had… Not the best picture in the world, but it was the only up to date one he had of the tenacious country. In the faded sepia picture Alfred was standing in his yard in a loose shirt, suspenders, and knickers, which bunched up, at his bare feet. He was holding a baseball bat like he was ready to swing it, with that stupid cocky grin on his face.

"His name is Alfred Jones. I believe he passed through here a few weeks ago, and bought one of your post cards. Do you remember him?" he asked holding his breath knowing that this man could barley remember what he ate for breakfast much less whether or not Alfred was here or not.

The man examined the picture and scrunched his face. He sighed and shook his head. "Sorry mister, we get so many rovers that come through here, whether from hopping the rails or the bus or even by foot, its hard to keep track of'em." Arthur sighed disappointedly, "Well thank you any way sir for-" he began but a woman who came over behind the counter for a moment looked over the cashier's shoulder and cut in. "I remember him." she said pointing to the picture smacking on her chewing gum. She looked like one of the waitresses from the small diner. Arthur's eyes lit up. "You do Bess?" the cashier asked craning his neck over his shoulder to look at her. "Sure I do, I never forget a face," she looked to Arthur, "You looking for him?"

"Yes he's my brother." Arthur said. "I remember him. Very nice fellow, tall, young, glasses had a funny cowlick on his head," she described twisting her finger above her head representing Alfred's Nantucket. Arthur chuckled. "Aye, that's him. Did he have an obnoxious laugh and veracious appetite?" he smiled trying to add to her references and description. The woman paused and put a hand to her chin in thought. "I never heard him laugh. He seemed a real friendly sort, but he didn't laugh that I can remember. He looked kinda worn out like he'd been traveling hard for a while." The lady then sighed shaking her head, "Poor boy, he looked like he'd been living out of a card board box for days." She said. This news made Arthur concerned, but he said nothing as she went on, "He offered to help some one start their car and got the old thing going."

"Oh yes now I remember that kid. Real strong fella, built like a tank but tall, blonde hair, four eyes, shabby clothes… Yeh I remember him." The cashier perked up. Arthur felt himself glair at the words "four eyes" and immediately corrected his composure. "He helped us out a lot that day, fixin' the AC, and the fryer in the back, along with the car he helped some family push in." the cashier continued. "Such a nice young man." The woman went on. "Was he alright?" Arthur felt himself immediately ask. "A bit range worn, dirty, and tired. But he didn't look any worse for ware. He just looked tired. I offered to fix him something for his troubles, but all he wanted was a postcard in exchange for what he did. To be honest, I'd have given him both, but he said to save it for someone else who needed to be fed."

Arthur's eyes widened in shock; Alfred refuse food?! And a cheeseburger even!? This was unheard of! My God he must be ill!

"Did he say where he was going? Please I must find him." Arthur insisted. "Well, he was trying to get to Kentucky, so I gave him a bus ticket and a lunch for his troubles, despite his objections. It was the least we could do after all he did." The woman said. "Mailed his post card too… Kind of an of an odd ball… Wanted us to mail it to the Whitehouse can you believe it." The cashier laughed. "But this summer heat will get to anyone." his cigarette falling from his mouth. Again Arthur felt himself glair at the man, but he said nothing. "I don't suppose he said anything more did he?" he inquired further. The woman shook her head. "No I'm afraid not, but," she reached over the counter and grabbed a bus ticket from its roll. "If you catch the next bus it should take you all the way to Kentucky." She said handing him the ticket.

Arthur smiled grateful. "Thank you mam." he said paying her for the ticket fishing a bit of change from his pocket. "You better get on out there, that bus'll be here any minute now." The cashier advised. "Thank you both again." And he walked outside into the late July summer heat. He sat down on the curb resting his duffel bag next to him with a sigh. "Christ, it sure is hot out here. God Alfred why does your home have to be so bloody hot!" he grumbled puling out his black umbrella pushing it open absent mindedly to block the sun.

"Give it about 5 minutes stranger, an' it'll change on ya." A high-pitched scruffy voice rattled next to him. Arthur startled flinching as he whipped his head to the person beside him. "Hehehe, once the skies open up out here, there's no stopping it. You'll be using that umbrella for a boat. Hehehe!" an old doubled over man laughed from behind his fluffy white beard. Arthur sighed and smiled as he regained himself from being startled. "Forgive me if I don't believe you." He chuckled grinning. Arthur knew how much rain America's home got, and while yes it could get a lot, it was nothing compared to his home.

"Yes well you have every reason not to sonny." The old tiny codger said, his squinted eyes smiling from under his disheveled straw hat. "Ever since that dust bowl came-a rollin in out west, things have been hotter than ever. Harder too."

"Forgive me sir, but I'm not from around here. Would you explain more to me what this dust bowl is?" Arthur asked, hoping to get some inside information on what was going on as apposed to what papers and officials told him. "Sure thing stranger." The old man said, his voice turning somber as he spoke. "In short, it's a drought. Due to all the dust out there, the wind kicks up some serious storms of nothing but dust, burying homes and farmlands in a matter of days… Folks out there can't afford to keep their homes or their farms anymore, cause the crops no good so they come by rail to either California or places like here to try and find work… Times are getting hard, for everyone. The whole world feels like it's turning to dust." The old man said.

Arthur smiled warmly and patted the old man's shoulder. "Don't worry sir, I assure you its not." He said then offered the man to share his umbrella with him. "Why thank you kindly sonny. Its people like you and your brother that make these hard times hopeful." Arthur froze. "My? You mean Alfred? You've seen him? How did you?" he began. The old man cackled again. "I may be getting old, and I may be as blind as a bat, but my hearin' is better than most folks. I couldn't help but over hear your conversation. Yes I knew your brother. Alfred you said his name was?"

"Yes sir. Can you tell me where he went?" Arthur asked leaning closer with anticipation. The old man pointed down the winding road off in the distance. "Ta Kentucky. When I asked him what was in Kentucky that needed getting to he said, he'd find out when he got there. Awful determined young man. Generous too, gave me this shirt of his, cause mine was wearing out on account of the fact I sit out here day after day." Arthur inspected the shirt, and noticed a faded star stitched on the left hand pocket. "Why don't you ride the bus sir? Surly it would be better than sitting out here in the hot sun all day." Arthur said. "Ain't got any money," the old man answered simply with a smile. "Well here, you can have my ticket and I…" Arthur started to reach for his pocket but the old man caught his hand. "Nope, now you keep your money sonny and your ticket too. You need both if you're going to find your brother." The old man said. "But,"

"Now, now. I got no where's to go. When I feel like going some where I'll go." The old man pulled out an old faded ticket. "But right now, I'd rather sit here and watch the world pass by. I've seen all I want to in this life, and I've learned enough too. And I keep learning just by sitting here. But you, you and your brother, you both are still young and have a lot you can learn. Who knows," the old man looked to Arthur and smiled. "You may change the world."

To this Arthur laughed. "You might be right sir. Eh heh heh!" He had in fact helped change the world on many occasions, and watched it grow and shrink all at the same time.

Soon the bus pulled up opening its painted metal doors welcoming anyone who wished to make the journey. Arthur stood up refolding his umbrella and gathering his duffel bag. He turned back to the old man. "Are you sure you won't come?" he asked. The old man smiled and waved. "I'll be fine here sonny. Besides I like to think I do some good, to those waiting for the bus… I like the conversation. I enjoyed ours as well." He answered. Arthur smiled and nodded. "Best of luck to you sir." And he stepped onto the bus. "And best of luck finding your brother sonny!" the old codger called, as Arthur found a seat and poked his head out the window, and the buss started forward. "And when you find him, tell him thank you for me. Good luck to you both!" the old man waved. "I shall! Good bye!" Arthur waved as the bus rolled away in a cloud of dust out of sight. The old man sighed and watched it disappear beyond the horizon. "Good luck to you… England…"


	3. Chapter 3: Rain drops

**Chapter 3: Raindrops**

Dear Mr. President,

I am sorry to say it has been nearly a month and I have still not found Alfred. But fret not, I am getting close I believe. From what little I have gathered, he has been traveling from state to state trying to help as many people as he is able. As far as I know he is in decent health but I will believe nothing until I see it with my own eyes. I'm not sure if you have received word from his majesty, King George, but if so tell him that I am doing fine and will return home as soon as my affairs here are done. Don't worry I intend to see this through to the end. I am in Ohio right now, and I will write as soon as I have found out more.

Kindest Regards,

Arthur Kirkland,

The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

It had been one moth since Arthur had started his journey to locate Alfred and bring him back. But without much luck. He had not even seen Alfred; where ever he went it seemed like he was always just one step behind, and the further he went the thinner the leads got, till now they had stopped all together. No one had seen the wandering blonde boy with glasses and the odd cowlick. Not a single shred of evidence.

During his travels, Arthur had seen the devastation of this depression, and some of the sights brought him to feel pity in his heart. He knew things were bad, but the sheer numbers he had seen of people without food, without homes, jobs, or lively hoods, was downright, well, depressing. He worried about Alfred, knowing he was out there somewhere amongst all this. He only prayed the boy had the strength of character to not give into these saddening times.

He now found himself in the state of Ohio, all alone, practically lost, running low on funds, clean clothing and spirits. It was August now, and the weather was just as hot as ever, though since passing into Ohio, the air was not as muggy as Kentucky's had been, but now he found himself in a summer down pour at night along a small town road.

Thunder caused the ground to shake, the buckets of rainwater flooding the muddy streets up to one's ankles. Luckily there was not much wind, so the storm did not blow the rain, but it instead it fell like a heavy curtain across the land. Arthur looked up at the darkened night sky from under his umbrella. "Its as if the stars are crying." He said to himself reciting an old wise tale he had heard when he was young. He sighed and hung his head miserably as he trudged on, duffel back over his shoulder his derby hat stuffed somewhere inside, his black umbrella above his head taking the full brunt of the storm's furry, the water running off the edges like a water fall. It was not so much the rain that depressed him; rain he could deal with, it was his lack of progress and no leads that discouraged him. Kentucky was the last known place he had heard of Alfred's whereabouts. Now he found himself deep within the heart of Cincinnati Ohio. He wasn't even sure if Alfred had come to this state, and so far not a soul had seen or heard of Alfred F. Jones.

Yet something deep inside the British nation told him he was on the right path. He had to keep going. He was the greatest hunter there was after all; he couldn't give up, not when he had been hot on a trail before and especially when it involved a fellow country… One who he…

"Hey! Get the cat! Get the cat!" He was pulled back from his thoughts by the sound of shouting, and turned over his shoulder quizzically towards the commotion. "Someone! Get the cat!" he saw a man running down the flooded sidewalk shouting and pointing to the road. His eyes followed the outstretched arm and saw a small white kitten struggling against a current of rainwater, which led towards a storm drain, bringing the poor creature right to him. In a flash he jumped out into the road and snatched the poor creature up before it was lost to the darkness of the storm drain. He kept one foot on the side walk, the other now ankle deep in water, as he balanced his duffel bag on one arm, his umbrella in that hand, while his other outstretched arm now held a squealing sopping kitten by the scruff of the neck.

The man who had been shouting for help ran across the street and Arthur handed him the mewing creature. The man took the little kitten and wrapped it in his coat. "Oh, thank you mister thank you! Little rascal got scared of the thunder and got away from me. My little girl would have been devastated if anything had happened to her Mittens." The man explained, thankfully bouncing the wet cat in his coat trying to dry it off. "That's quite alright no harm done." Arthur said holding his umbrella out so the man was sheltered from the downpour. "I'm just happy I happened along." Arthur continued shaking off his now drenched shoe and pant leg.

The man smiled and said, "I can never thank you enough for this. Won't you come inside and have a drink its raining cats and dogs out here." He offered calling above the pounding rain. Arthur smiled. "Quite literally it would seem." he said glancing to the terrified kitten. "No thank you sir, as generous an offer as that is, I'd hate to impose. I'm trying to find an inn for the night, do you know where they might be one?" he asked. "There's a hotel just up the road, but it will cost you a buck 50 a night. " he advised. "That will be fine thank you." Arthur said. "You don't sound like you're from around these parts. May I ask where you're headed? My wife could fix you up some biscuits or tea for your trouble." The man offered again. While warm tea and a dry comfy chair did sound appealing right now, Arthur had far more important things to worry about. "Thank you sir but I'd hate to impose." he reluctantly declined again. "No imposing at all sir. My wife and I try to help as many travelers and hobos as we can." He said. Arthur had a thought. "Perhaps you can help me then sir," Arthur said and balanced the umbrella on the crook of his shoulder while he fished for the Polaroid. "I'm actually looking for my younger brother," he explained over the loud din of pattering rain and clapping thunder. He showed the man the picture. "Have you by chance seen him? Maybe he stopped by your home."

The man ushered Arthur closer to a lamppost, keeping a firm hold on the trembling kitten in his jacket. He examined the picture closely squinting his eyes as he studied it. Arthur did not hold his breath; so many people he had asked had not seen Alfred, not even a glimpse. The rain thrashed down onto the streets, the patter on the umbrella was almost deafening. Then the man nodded and pointed to the photograph. "Yes! Yes I remember him. Kinda tall young man, blonde hair, glasses, funny cowlick on his head. Passed by not to long ago, before the storm hit. Went by the name of, Albert? Arnie?"

"Alfred!" Arthur exclaimed in happy excitement. "Yes that's the one. Alfred. Nice kid." The man continued. "Where was he? Did he tell you where he was going? Is he alright? Did he tell you anything at all? Please I must find him!" Arthur found himself chattering quickly and desperately clutching the man's shoulder in anticipation. "He was just at our home before the storm hit. He left not but 2 hours ago headed towards Chicago. Poor boy didn't look like he was doing too good. My wife wanted to call a doctor, but he left before we ever got the chance. If you go now you may catch him. But I'd hurry, you won't last long in this weather." The man advised. Arthur nodded. Alfred ill? And caught all alone in this storm?! He had to hurry. "Which way?" Arthur asked. The man pointed. "Straight down that road. I'd check the hobo jungles along the way, maybe he stopped there for shelter."

Arthur shook the man's free hand. "Thank you sir I am forever in your dept." and with that took off into a run down the road. The man waved good by and called above the thunder and rain. "Be careful sir take care!" The tiny cat from beneath his coat mewed.

Arthur jogged for what seemed an eternity with no sign of Alfred anywhere, or these "hobo jungles" either. He could not have gotten far in this storm, especially if he was sick. He shook that thought out of his head; he had to keep a straight head as best he could. He had slowed to a walk, and the brutal rain had lessened a bit now to a nice summer shower. Still constant rain, but not a down pour like it had been. It was much later now about 8:00 or so and Arthur was growing tired and cold. He sneezed into his free hand and wiped his nose with a shiver. He had a cold as it was already, he didn't need the rain to make him worse. His economy was weak enough, with out him having to get any sicker.

But he was so close, too close to even think of giving up now. He was getting closer; he could almost feel it, something inside him screaming to keep going. He dragged his aching legs through the slick muddy street, as paved road was soon replaced by dirt, and buildings replaced by trees. Maybe he had gone too far, he was nearing a wooded area, and from what he could make out through the foliage, a railway. What if Alfred had managed to hop a train? Now what would he do. He groaned and leaned his head back. "Alfred! Alfred Jones!" he called… No surprise, that silence answered him. He kept going till he reached a small bridge that crossed over a large dip in the woods and a flowing creek. He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bridge to rest for a moment.

This was hopeless; he was never going to find Alfred at this rate. He sighed and tossed a pebble into the stream. As he watched the water ripple and dance he noticed something in the creek bed… A footprint! He titled his head then hopped down into the shallow creek for a closer look. He found more, leading away from the path into the woods… Fresh tracks too.

He felt some renewed excitement flutter into his heart, and he followed them, leaving his bag behind, but brought his umbrella, to serve as a walking stick and crutch on the slippery terrain. It was a long shot but a shot nonetheless. He kept his eyes glued forward as he brushed braches from his path with his folded umbrella.

He soon came to a small dip in the woods and saw it, a make shift lean to, made up of a small battered American flag cloth, and an old worn leather jacket with a 50 embroidered onto the back. The two fabrics were tied together and barely strung up to the trunks of two trees. Lying just under this meager shelter was a familiar crumpled body… "Alfred." Arthur found himself gasp, then jumped down the small dip and ran to him. "America!" he cried.


	4. Chapter 4: Lost and Found

**Chapter 4: Lost and Found**

"America!" Alfred's eyes twitched at the distant call that rang in his ears. "America!" it called again. He groaned and forced his weary eyes to open, at the sound of his true name. "Huh?" he mumbled sleepily.

Arthur dropped down at his side and shook his shoulder. "America. America wake up." He ordered. The body beneath his hand stirred reluctantly. "Huh?" a voice croaked from the shivering form. A head turned up to him, "E-England?" Alfred asked blinking his eyes, trying to see through his rain and mud soaked glasses. He slowly sat up and took them from his face wiping them on his dirty shirt then placed them back on his face. England's form appeared knelt there as if by magic. "England, i-is that you?" he asked sleepily. Arthur nodded and laughed placing a warm hand on Alfred's shoulder. "Yes you limy twit it's me." He reassured. "What?" Alfred paused to yawn and rubbed his weary eyes. "What in the blue blazes are you doing here?!" he exclaimed, still very confused. "Looking for you, you spoiled brat!" Arthur replied placing his hands to his hips. "Where do you get off running away like that and not telling anyone where you've gone? Especially in a time a crisis like this? You've had your boss worried sick about you! He sent me to come find you." Arthur explained in a chastising voice as Alfred began to wake up more, curling his knees to his chest, resting his chin on his knees.

"I told him I'd write. And I-I did." he argued innocently, lifting his heavy half closed eyes to Arthur's furrowed ones. "That's no excuse for your behavior. For the love of God Alfred, you're in the middle of a Depression; you can't just run off like that. What if you had gotten hurt? What were you thinking?" Arthur continued. Alfred lowered his eyes and looked away. "I, I had to make things right. I have to try." He said softly. Arthur's face softened and he gently guided America's face back to face him, his green eyes scanning him. "I'm alright dude," America continued. "don't worry about me. This is something I have to do. Sorry they sent for you, they shouldn't have."

"I'm glad they did!" Arthur exclaimed. "Look at you! You're filthy! You look as if you were raised in a tin box!" he cried gesturing to the young man before him. Alfred looked himself over, as Arthur reached for a handkerchief in his waistcoat pocket. "I'm not that bad." Alfred said, just before the handkerchief was shoved into his face. "You're a pig sty! Now hold still." Arthur ordered as he wiped the dirt and grime, which clung to the younger country's face. "Puh! Dude, get off me! Quit it! Mmmfff!"

Alfred growled as he tried to pull away from the offending cloth, but Arthur held him there fast… The younger man was too weak to fight back. "There now that's a little better." Arthur said placing the handkerchief back into his pocket. "Now tell me lad," he asked gently as Alfred coughed heavily into his fist. "Why on earth are you sleeping out here in the rain?" he popped open his umbrella holding it over the younger man, the lean to did not offer much if any shelter. Alfred shivered licking a drop of rain running down his face. "C-Cause, I got nowhere else to sleep." He admitted sniffing and cleared his throat. "Why don't you sleep in a hotel?" Arthur continued, "You'll catch your death out here."

"I…" Alfred again lowered his gaze but did not shrink away. "I have no money…I'm flat b-broke." He said and pulled all of his pockets out to prove his point. Now that his worried furry had calmed Arthur took time to examine his younger charge. Alfred was wearing the shabbiest clothes he had ever seen him wear. A white cotton shirt, with holes along the chest and armpits, a pair of worn jean overalls with patches and holes all over them, his shoes were missing too, his toes curled on each other, his feet raw and bleeding by the looks. His face and complexion was paler than normal, his bright eyes listless and exhausted with dark circles under them, he looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks, and his Nantucket cowlick drooped slightly. "America," Arthur whispered sadly his eyebrows lifting, "What on earth has happened to you?" he asked desperately shocked that the creature before him was truly America, the brave and the bold… And the obnoxious.

Alfred shrugged and wiped his running nose on his arm. "Nothin' I'm fine really I am. Don't worry over me du-" but he was cut off by a violent bout of coughing. "I'm fine England, really. Just a little under the weather is all." He added quickly clearing his throat swallowing hard as if it hurt him. "A little under the weather?!" Arthur exclaimed. "Lad you look like you have the plague! And I would know, I was there!" he quickly shoved his hand to Alfred's forehead. The younger country tried to shy away, but not quickly enough. "You're burning up!" Arthur exclaimed,

Alfred only ignored him and forced a smile. "I'll be fine dude, really. Please, go home, I can take care of things myself." He said shivering and coughing weakly. "I will do no such thing!" Arthur shook his head, and quickly propped his umbrella against his knee and ripped his own jacket off and draped it around Alfred's shoulders. "Come now Alfred. You look half drowned and half starved. When was the last time you ate something?" Arthur asked kindly, holding his umbrella back up for them. Alfred shrugged. "N-not too long…" but his stomach grumbling cut him off. "Mmhmm. That's what I thought." Alfred blushed looking down at his toes cursing at his stomach under his breath. Arthur's face lifted into a warm soft smile. "Its cold out here, what do you say we go grab a bite to eat somewhere and warm up eh?" he asked. Alfred looked to him then back to his small lean to and assorted supplies. "B-but I don't have any c-c-ash." He shivered. "That's alright, this one will be on me."

"I don't want you spending your money on me."

"I won't be… Your boss gave me this sum of cash. Now come on," Britain stood up and held his hand out to him. "Lets go find some dry clothes and a decent meal. And you can tell me all about what you've been doing. Just for one night how does that sound?" Arthur asked. Alfred looked up at him. "Y-You're not gunna take me back to the White House are you?" he asked hugging his knees like a frightened child who knew that had done something wrong. Arthur smiled and shook his head. "Not unless you are ready to go back." He said gently lowing his hand a bit more towards Alfred.

Alfred sighed; a warm meal did sound nice, and some company too wouldn't be half bad either. He looked back to the welcoming hand, which beckoned for him, as small droplets of rain rolled off pale strong fingers and along the creases of the palm. He sat there staring, thinking. "Come America." a gentle voice coaxed over the pattering rain. _"Lets go home…"_

Alfred sighed and clasped the warm hand out stretched to him. "Alright, but just for one night." He said as he was pulled to his aching feet. Arthur chuckled holding the umbrella over them. "As you wish. Now grab your things lad and lets find you something to eat, and some clean clothes." Alfred hugged the jacket around his shoulders tighter sniffing and coughing as he weakly gathered his meager belongings putting a small cap on his head and folded everything up in his American flag cloth and tied it to a stick. Then he started to hand Arthur back his jacket, and put his own leather one on, but the older country shook his head. "Wear it. It will keep you warm, and keep out the rain." Alfred was too exhausted to argue, in truth he hadn't slept in days. He shouldered his wet jacket and his small stick and cloth then followed Arthur back towards town. Arthur gently put his arm around Alfred's shoulders and allowed the young country to lean against him for support as they made their way up the embankment back towards town, the rain pattering softly about the forest now, a warm gently summer breeze breathing life back into the air.


End file.
